


Past, Present, Future

by ZorroRojo



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZorroRojo/pseuds/ZorroRojo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a WIP - it's probably the only WIP I'm going to post because it's the only one I plan to work on.  This story was written mostly in 2004/2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

*****

"Larabee."

"Chris, it's Travis."

Great. Just what he needed. Of all the times for Travis to call him. He knew the report was overdue, but the results from the main lab in DC weren't back yet and he had no proof for the conclusions in his report without them. He'd been haranguing the labtech for the better part of a week and still hadn’t gotten anywhere. Travis didn’t normally ride his ass, in fact, he never called, but this was a high-profile case and word was the director of the agency had taken a personal interest. He would just have to wait right along with Chris. Chris prepared to bite his tongue and respond with only a ‘yes, sir’ or a ‘no, sir.’

“Is agent Tanner currently in the office or is he out in the field?”

Well, he wasn’t prepared for that question. Took him a minute to change gears. Vin hadn’t needed to fire his weapon on the op and his report was the thinnest of the bunch, with him high above the action covering the front entrance to the warehouse. 

It took Chris a few seconds to answer and he was pretty sure he kept the question out of his tone. “He’s here.”

“Good. I have visitors. There are two agents from the FBI in my office who want to see him immediately.”

“Orrin…”

“It’s personal Chris, that’s all I know.”

“Yes, sir.”

He could hear voices other than Travis' though the receiver, but couldn’t make out the words. Personal, not professional. Didn’t keep him from wondering.

“Chris?” Travis didn’t wait for a reply. “They’d like to come down there. They’re requesting a conference room and recording equipment. They’re anxious for a witness statement from Agent Tanner.”

“And if he doesn’t want to give one?” Chris asked, his hackles rising just a bit. 

“Of course that’s up to Tanner, but if he’s a witness in a criminal case… he is a law enforcement agent…”

Travis didn’t have to finish the sentence. Vin would make himself available, Chris knew. But why hadn’t he said anything to Chris about being part of a criminal investigation?

“Chris?” Travis asked.

“Send them down. They can use our conference room.” 'Where I can keep an eye on them,' he kept to himself.

He could hear Travis talking to the FBI agents, only making out a few of the words. After a few seconds of silence, Travis came back on the line. “Before you ask, I don’t know what this is about. They insisted on going directly to him, but I pointed out we have a chain of command just as they do.”

“Thanks,” Chris said, his voice tight, ready to hang up and get to Vin before the FBI did.

“One second,” Travis’s raised voice came from the headset Chris already had halfway to its cradle. “I’ve talked to the head of operations of the forensics lab. Your case is now at the top of their list.”

“Thanks,” Chris said, again, before hanging up, actually meaning it this time. He strode out into the outer office the rest of the team shared, anxious to give Vin a heads-up. A little warning would be appreciated, he knew.

“Vin?” Chris called when Vin didn’t look up. He was hard at work on something.

Buck watched him though, calling out, “Something up?” when Chris met his eyes. 

Chris shook his head at him and Buck went back to work, diligently finishing the report that was due a few days before. Buck played a large role in the op and he’d done well. His report had been finished and turned in on time, but with the lab results late, he’d started tweaking. Chris glanced around the bullpen, taking in what each member of his team was doing as he waited for Vin to join him. He had a damn good team. Damn good.

As soon as Vin started toward him Chris went back to his office, leaving his door open. He’d no sooner sat down at his desk when Vin slipped in behind him.

“Close the door,” Chris said with a nod. “And have a seat.”

“Something wrong?” Vin asked.

“Don’t know,” Chris said, shrugging. “You know of any reason why there are two FBI agents on their way down to see you?”

Vin’s expression didn’t change. He obviously didn’t know either.

“They say you’re a witness. Wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Vin nodded to him, expression remote. Didn’t take long for him to sigh. “Reckon they might have me mixed up with someone else, cowboy. I’m drawin’ a blank.” 

Curiosity lit his expression then and Chris’ worry eased off a little. Couldn’t be something too bad, if Vin didn’t even know what it was. “All right. They want you in the conference room and they asked for recording equipment. Give a holler if you need me.”

“Always,” Vin said with a nod and a small smile before heading out and down the hall that led to the conference room.

Chris held his curiosity at bay. He’d hear about it over lunch, he was sure. He and Vin didn’t keep secrets from each other. Never had. He wasn’t even sure they could. He settled behind his desk and tried to forget about the meeting going on twenty yards away from his office. He had work to do.

Lunch came and went with Vin still holed up with the Fibbies. Chris sent the rest of the guys out without him and went back to work. He finally made progress with the evidence lab, assured he’d get a fax by the end of the day. That done, he almost went to check on why his agent was still meeting with the FBI, but Buck came into his office just as he stood.

“Brought you back roast beef and Vin’s meatball is on his desk. Any idea what’s going on in there?”

Chris shook his head. He was just as curious as Buck was, but he didn’t let it show. 

Buck made no move to leave and Chris unwrapped his sandwich. 

“Can you give me a hand with my report?” Buck asked and Chris nodded.

“Just want to make sure I got all the details down,” Buck said as he came back into Chris' office, clutching the file. 

They went over the op more times than Chris could count and he didn’t notice the time passing until he looked out the window. Hell, it had to be almost quitting time what with the sun so low on the horizon. He checked his watch and couldn’t help looking at his closed door. Past five.

“He’s smart enough to call for backup if he needs it, Chris,” Buck said. 

“How long does it take to make a statement,” Chris asked, running his hand through his hair. What if they’d lied and were investigating Vin? Wouldn’t be the first time a suspect was approached as a ‘witness.’ But Buck was right; the second things looked like they were headed that way, Vin would have called for backup.

He dropped the folder he’d been working on onto his desk and pushed his chair out, his muscles stiff after so many hours in the same position. When he stuck his head out the door, he got another surprise. The rest of the team was still there. Quietly talking amongst themselves, work put away, but still there.

“You guys can go,” Chris said, nodding at the clock.

Four guilty faces turned to him. They knew how he felt about discussing other people’s business. He didn’t call them on it though.

“Any idea what it’s about?” Josiah asked. 

Chris shook his head. He was still damned curious, though.

“We don’t mind waiting, Chris,” Nathan said, his expression giving away he wanted to say more.

Chris gave them each a last look before turning back to his office. “I should have a fax from the evidence lab before six. Looks like it might be a late night,” he said as he closed his office door behind him.

It was quiet behind the closed door, the normal noises from the outer office conspicuously absent. He went back to work, now more than a little worried.

Another fifteen minutes passed before a door slamming and raised voices had him on his feet and headed toward his door. He’d recognize Vin’s voice through ten doors; he definitely knew it was him through only one. He knew this was going to turn ugly, had been waiting for it. Vin was a patient man, one of the most patient Chris had ever met, but even he had his limits and almost seven hours in a locked room being interrogated by FBI agents must have finally reached past those limits.

Before Chris could get to him, Vin was out the door and halfway down the corridor. He’d seen enough. “You can leave now,” Chris told the FBI agent who’d started chasing Vin down.

“No, Agent Larabee, we can’t.” The man wasn’t intimidated. He looked haggard, but determined. “Agent Tanner is a vital witness to this case. Without him, we don’t have one.”

“What case?” Chris asked, arms crossed, stance wide and blocking their way. He noticed Buck slipping down the hallway after Vin but didn’t give away that he’d seen him. He wished he could be the one to see what was going on; Vin might not tell anyone but him, but he needed to keep these guys off Vin’s back until Vin got hold of himself.

“What case?” Chris asked again, this time his voice sharp and brooking no argument that it would be answered.

“It’s personal," one of the agents replied, looking anxiously over Chris' shoulder. "We are not at liberty to divulge any details,” he added.

“So why did you bring it here, if it’s personal?”

The agents shared a look-- a look that had Chris ready to rip their heads off their shoulders. They *wanted* Vin to be off guard, and to remember that he too was a federal agent. He got a bad feeling, worse than he’d had most of the day. Whatever it was, they knew coming in Vin wouldn’t be too cooperative, and they'd played Travis, Vin and himself to put the squeeze on Vin.

Chris' throat tightened, and he had to clear it before he could speak. "You not only took one of my agents for seven hours of this personal business, but you used professional courtesy to get his cooperation, mine and the Assistant Director's, knowing damn well you were putting us all in a pinch. Boys, you just screwed with the wrong SAC."

The shorter one drew up from his slight hunch, clearly on the defensive. "Agent Larabee..."

"Get out of my sight, and stay out."

Chris didn’t waste any more time on them, turning his back and heading towards his office. By now, Buck and Vin had to be out of the building. If Vin wanted to talk, he’d call him on his cell since all the land lines in the ATF offices were automatically recorded. 

He shut his office door behind him; he didn’t want the FBI agents following him. Whatever this was about, it had turned south. As he was about to grab his coat, his fax machine began receiving. “Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve been waiting a fucking week and they pick now to send the damn forensics report.” He jerked open his office door and called “Josiah!”

Keys, he needed his keys. He turned to his desk to grab them, calling over his shoulder, “If there are any surprises in that report, call me immediately.” 

He’d just turned, thoughts with Vin and just what the hell was going on when he caught sight of Vin down on the street. He was halfway across the intersection, just stepping off the island divider between the opposite lanes of traffic. Chris knew Vin couldn’t see him from ten floors up, but he stopped to watch him. Maybe his body language would offer a clue.

As Vin stepped off the curb, Chris saw the headlights coming straight toward Vin. Even he could see the red-light the car had, so he didn’t give it more than a glance. Chris spotted Buck running to catch up to Vin, watched as Vin turned his head to say something to Buck.

He didn’t know what happened… one second, Vin stood there, looking pissed as hell, getting ready to yell at Buck, the next, he flew through the air, crashing headfirst into the windshield of the car, then flipping up and over the top. It sped off, not even pretending to stop.

“No!” Chris yelled. “Vin!”

A hand on his arm pulled it away from the window and Josiah's face filled his field of vision. "I'll call 911, you go on down there," Josiah said. Josiah ushered him out of the office calling "Nathan," as soon as they stepped into the bullpen. "Vin's been hit by a car. Go with Chris."

Ezra and JD leapt to their feet at the news and Josiah gave a small shake of his head. Chris watched through a fog. It couldn't be as bad as it looked, he told himself. Vin would be on his feet by the time Chris got down there, mad as all hell and probably ready to chase down the hit and run driver. He'd have to catch up to Buck-- the two of them would have the driver in cuffs by the time Chris made it to the street. He kept telling himself that as he shared a silent elevator ride with Nathan.

They stepped out of the building and were met with chaos-- traffic completely stopped, horns blaring, sirens coming from a few blocks away. He scanned the scene for Vin or Buck, still telling himself Vin would be on his feet and spitting mad. It worked until he could finally see through the gathered crowd. Buck, hunched over someone on the ground, had his jacket off, covering the victim. 

Nathan pushed by Chris and only then did he realize he’d been frozen in place. He snapped out of it and pushed his way through the crowd, settling in on his haunches next to Buck and Vin. No blood. That was good. 

“Chris,” Buck said, nodding to him. “Junior, here, got knocked around pretty good, but he’s doing great, aren’tcha, Vin? Chris is here, Vin.” Buck kept talking to Vin, orienting him, but Chris didn’t say a word. 

Chris realized with a start that Vin’s eyes were open. He wasn’t making a sound, though, and it didn’t look like anyone was home. He’d expected him to be unconscious, the way his head bounced off the windshield and probably the pavement, too. 

Vin let out a low moan and Chris reached out to touch him. As he lightly rested his hand on Vin’s shoulder, he was elbowed out of the way. Ready to shove the intruder away, Chris realized it was EMS before he did just that.

“C’mon, Chris,” Buck said softly. “Let’s get out of their way and let ‘em do their jobs. Vin’s gonna be fine, ain’t ya, Vin?”

Vin moaned in response and even though he didn’t want to, Chris took a step back. Vin was alive, awake and not bleeding. Everything would be fine. It would. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, meeting Buck’s eyes. Buck was calm, in control; the way Chris should be. He gave Buck a nod and Buck nodded back. 

“What have we got?” the second EMT asked as she pushed her way through the crowd, carrying equipment. “Where’s crowd control?” she barked out.

“We’ve got it,” JD said. Chris didn’t even know he was there. He glanced up to see Ezra, Josiah and JD getting control of the scene. He still felt like he wasn’t there, felt like none of it was even real.

“Ma’am,” Buck said from Chris’ right and Chris and the paramedic turned to him. “Victim’s name is Vin Tanner. He’s an ATF agent. He’s got a gun on his hip and another at his ankle.”

She nodded to him, then joined her partner on the ground next to Vin.

“How does he look,” she asked.

“Shocky and stunned, but that’s not surprising. How fast was the car moving?” the first paramedic asked, not directing his question to anyone specifically. He went to work as he waited for an answer, quickly getting a collar onto Vin, checking his airway and shining a light in his eyes. 

As her partner got the trauma center on the radio, she motioned Chris and Buck aside. “Can you give me some vitals on him?” she asked them.

“Sure,” Buck said. “He’s twenty-seven, healthy, not on any medications.”

“Any allergies?” she asked.

“Chris?” Buck prompted, laying a hand on Chris’ shoulder. He’d heard their entire conversation, but his eyes were on Vin and what the paramedic was doing to him. IV’s inserted, neck and back immobilized, vitals taken; the paramedic was efficient. He even got a few grunts out of Vin in response to his questions.

“Chris?”

“No,” Chris said, still not taking his eyes off Vin. “He’s not allergic to anything.”

“Good,” the paramedic said. “We’ll be loading him up as soon as he’s stabilized and transporting him to the level one trauma center at Denver Health. You can meet us there.”

“No,” Chris said, snapping out of it a little. “I’m coming with you.”

“I’m sorry, you can’t,” she said. “There won’t be any room and we’ll be busy. Do you know where Denver Health is?” she asked.

“We know it,” Buck said, clapping his hand onto Chris’ shoulder. “C’mon pard, Vin’s in good hands.”

He wouldn’t leave until they had Vin loaded. He knew the routine and knew he wouldn’t get to see him again for some time. He couldn’t get close enough to touch, couldn’t let Vin know they were all there and would be following right behind.

The paramedic working on Vin talked softly to him while he worked on him and the one who’d been talking to Chris and Buck got on her radio. “Victim is a twenty-seven year old male in good health, no known allergies. Blood pressure 97 over 62, pulse 82 and thready. No open wounds, possible broken left femur and head trauma. Patient is stabilized and ready for transport.”

Chris knew what some of it meant, but with Nathan on crowd control with the rest of the team, he wasn’t there to let Chris know how Vin was doing.

“C’mon, Chris,” Buck urged him, but Chris didn’t move until Vin was in the back of the rig. As soon as he was, he headed for his truck. He fingered his keys in his pocket, a flashback to the accident hitting him hard. He’d been getting his keys when it happened.

“I’ll drive,” Buck said, tone accepting no argument. That was all right, because Chris wasn’t planning on giving one.

“Ez?” Buck called, “Me an’ Chris are heading over to Denver Health. You got everything under control?”

“We’ll join you there as soon as we’re cleared from the scene by local law enforcement,” Ezra said. 

“I saw it,” Chris said, surprising both Buck and Ezra. “From my office window. If they need a witness, have them call me at the hospital. I didn‘t get the plate.”

Buck and Ezra shared a glance that Chris didn’t miss, but he ignored Buck’s raised eyebrow and Ezra’s frown, making a beeline for Buck’s truck. “Let’s go,” he called out.

He really wished Buck would run with lights and sirens, but it wasn’t an emergency. Not one they were responding to, anyway.

“He looked all right,” Buck said after they’d completed half the drive in silence.

Chris didn’t answer. He didn’t know how Vin looked. He wasn’t a god-damned doctor and neither was Buck. He didn’t need Buck’s reassurances right now, he needed the doctors‘. Buck didn’t say anything else and they finished the drive in silence. 

*****


	2. 2

Buck let him out at the door while he went to park the truck and Chris stepped into the emergency room. It’d been awhile since he’d been there; his team was good at what they did, professionals, and were rarely injured. Last time he was here, it was in the pediatric wing. He wasn’t going to think about that now. Never, if he could help it.

He worked his way to the main desk and to the clerk behind the glass.

“Larabee for Tanner. He was hit by a car.”

“Are you family, sir?” she asked him, all polite professionalism.

“I have his medical power of attorney. He doesn’t have any family.”

She nodded to him and picked up her phone. “A trauma coordinator will be with you shortly. You can have a seat over there.” She pointed to a lounge full of people. He didn’t want to go sit over there. He wanted to know how Vin was.

“Chris?” Buck’s voice called across the room. “Any word yet?” he asked as he followed Chris to the waiting area.

Chris shook his head and settled in to wait, not taking his eyes off the doors the receptionist had indicated when she said a trauma coordinator would be with him shortly.

Shortly turned into half an hour, then forty-five minutes. Chris didn’t leave his chair; he let Buck do the pacing for both of them.

“Is there a Christopher Larabee here?” the receptionist called out. 

“Here,” Buck answered as he hurried over to the reception area. “Chris?” he asked when he realized Chris hadn’t moved.

“Telephone,” the receptionist said and Buck took the call. 

Chris didn’t take his eyes away from that door. The one he knew Vin was somewhere behind.

“That was Ezra,” Buck said as he slumped into the chair next to Chris. “They’re going to be another hour at least.”

“Why so long?” Chris asked, not really caring about the answer.

“Might not be an accident. FBI showed up after we left and opened that door.”

“What the fuck do they want with him?” Chris nearly yelled, causing heads all over the waiting room to turn in his direction. He didn’t give a shit.

“Ezra’s trying to find out but he hasn’t gotten anywhere. We’re just gonna have to wait for Vin to tell us.”

Chris grunted a reply and settled back in to wait, eyes still on that door.

It was another hour before Chris heard his name called. A middle-aged, stout, serious-looking woman was the one doing the calling and Chris nearly jumped to his feet to meet her.

“Chris Larabee?” she asked and he nodded.

She extended her hand to him. “Becca King, RN. I’m Vin’s trauma coordinator. If you’ll follow me?” she asked, not waiting for him to respond before heading back into the emergency room. 

Chris’d been itching to get behind those doors for hours and didn’t hesitate to follow her. He felt Buck move alongside him and glanced at him, giving a slight nod, letting him know it was all right if he followed.

Chris followed her down the hallway to where she stepped into a small room, but he didn’t follow her in. He was too busy searching the row of bays for any sign of Vin. For any clue how he was doing.

“He’s been brought to the CT lab,” the nurse said and Chris finally stepped into the room after her, Buck right on his heels.

“Buck Wilmington, ma’am,” Buck said, extending his hand. 

“Friend of the family?” she asked.

Buck shook his head. “We are his family.”

“How is he?” Chris asked, not able to wait another minute.

“Lucky,” she said, motioning for them to take a seat at the small conference table. “Before we get into details, he’s going to live. While serious and painful, none of his injuries are life-threatening. I need to explain to you who I am and what I do, then I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“I know what you do,” Chris said softly. He’d had extensive experience with a trauma coordinator the last time he was here. But he wasn’t going to think about that. “Last time I was here, Rob Hutchins was the trauma coordinator.”

She studied him for a minute and he returned her gaze. Probably a little harshly, but he couldn’t help it. He might embarrass himself if he didn’t keep a tight lid on the memories trying to fight their way up from where he’d stuffed them. She finally nodded to him and spread her folder out on the table. “Rob’s still in pediatrics,” she said as she arranged the papers across the table. She let it drop and finished arranging the paperwork silently.

One stack was filled with forms with those little stickers that said where to sign, the other stack held hand-written notes. She leaned forward on the table, getting his and Buck’s attention off the papers and onto her face.

“Like I said, his injuries aren’t life-threatening, but they are serious. Our two major concerns are that he’s slowly bleeding into his belly and he’s having some orientation difficulties.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t life threatening,” Chris interrupted her. “Internal bleeding is more than ‘serious.’”

She shook her head just a little. “We’ve found the source of the bleeding on his scans and we have time. He’s a little shocky, still, and with the head trauma, the surgery can wait a little longer. We won’t let him bleed out.”

Chris nodded. Of course they wouldn’t let him bleed out, but he still didn’t like it. “What kind of orientation difficulties?” he asked her. And if Buck made a wise-ass remark about other kinds of orientation, he’d deck him. He was close to the edge and he knew he couldn’t take Buck’s usually good-natured, but still somewhat annoying teasing.

“He’s having some memory problems that we need to discuss before you see him,” she told them, looking to her notes.

Chris knew from personal experience that a good knock to the head caused memory problems. He was more concerned about the internal bleeding.

“We’ll need you to sign the surgery consent forms. One for his leg and one for his belly. The orthopedic surgeon on-call has been notified, but we have his leg stabilized and it can wait. Do you have a copy of his medical power of attorney on file with the hospital?”

“He’s that out of it?” Buck asked, zeroing right in on a problem Chris would have overlooked.

“We’re not comfortable with his signing the consent forms in his current state of mind,” she told them, staring Chris in the eyes again. “I’d like to hold off on details. The neurologist asked that you come in fresh, since you’ll be more likely to know what’s missing. He’d like you there to observe when he assesses him. Depending on the availability of an operating room, it will be either before or after the surgery.”

“The Power of Attorney is at the office,” Chris said. “I’ll ask someone to go get it.”

“Do you need a phone?” she asked him.

“I’ll go,” Buck said as he pushed his chair back. “It’s with the other ones, right, Chris?”

Chris gave a slight nod yes and as thanks. “Update the guys,” Chris said as Buck was about to step out of the room. He gave a tight nod in agreement and closed the door behind him.

“You’ve had experience with a trauma coordinator?” the nurse asked him.

He nodded, still not saying anything.

“Good,” she said. “So you know what to expect. Here’s my card; I’m on call twenty-four hours a day. If you need someone, I’m the one you’ll contact. As you know, I’ll be coordinating all of the teams seeing to Vin’s care. I have two other patients right now, so my case-load is a little lighter than usual and I should be easy to contact. Do you have any questions for me?”

He shook his head. 

She smiled at him, softening her demeanor, but she was still all business. “All right; I have a few things for you to sign, then I’ll see about getting you in to see him. Sound good?”

Chris nodded again. It would do for an answer; he wasn’t the world’s best communicator at the best of times and this sure didn’t qualify as the best of times.

He finished initialing and signing all the forms and looked up to find her studying him.

“How long have you known him?” she asked when he caught her eye.

“A little over a year.”

She frowned and he briefly wondered what that was about. He might be a little off balance, but he was still an investigator and he didn’t miss details. Even the smallest ones. 

She gathered the paperwork and stood and he joined her. He appreciated her intuitiveness; she wasn’t going to talk him to death. He followed her down the ER hallway to a trauma room where she paused outside the door. “Just a minute,” she said before she slipped into the room, leaving him in the hallway.

He made a point of not thinking while he waited. He could see into the room, but he couldn’t see beyond the people to the bed where he knew Vin was. He turned his back on the door; there was no sense in trying to get a look. Vin was where he needed to be right now so he would wait. Might even do it patiently.

His patience wasn’t tested because he ended up not waiting very long. Just moments after the nurse slipped inside, the door opened and she motioned him forward.

“If you could stay next to me, the neurologist is running some tests.”

It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t give an answer. Besides, he was too busy getting his first look at Vin since the accident.

He didn’t look too bad. He still wore a neck brace, he had lines going into him and monitors attached to him. Nothing Chris hadn’t seen before and nothing out of the ordinary in an emergency room. He could handle this. He could handle being in the very same hospital where he lost his son. Even if it was his first time back since that day.

“Mr. Tanner?” One of the white-coated women hovering over Vin called loudly. “You’re in the hospital, remember? We’re going to take you to surgery soon, you need to try to relax, all right?” 

He could see Vin’s face now and almost wished he still couldn’t. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, he grimaced in pain as one of the nurses did something to his leg. It lay over the covers, the air splint still on it. From where Chris stood, even he could see it was broken. His entire leg looked misaligned, starting about mid-thigh. 

“Vin?” the same woman asked. “Can you answer some questions for me?”

He shook his head, still not opening his eyes.

“Do you know what day it is?”

Vin let out a little moan and shook his head slightly before croaking, “No.” His voice was barely audible, but it sounded off to Chris. Everything just looked and felt off. Vin, while not exactly an attention seeker, didn’t usually try to get away from people trying to help him. Hell, he let Buck and Chris carry him up the stairs to his apartment when he sprained his ankle playing football a couple of months before. When Buck made a wise ass comment, Vin laughed and said, “You think I’m stupid? Trying to walk up them stairs on a bum ankle?”

But Vin was having none of it now. Each time one of the nurses or doctors tried to touch him, to examine him, he pulled away and made what sounded like a growl. And as he grew stronger, he fought them more. 

Chris took a step forward without realizing it, until he could see Vin’s face clearly. “Vin,” he said, loud enough to get his attention, but not loud enough to startle him. He used his command tone, the one he learned in the SEALS-- the one he had years to hone on the hard-headed Buck Wilmington. It worked; Vin stopped moving and opened his eyes, looking for the source.

“Be still,” Chris said, stepping a little closer. “You were hit by a car. You probably don’t remember. You’re going to be fine. Just relax and let them do what they need to and me and the boys will be waiting for you.”

Vin stared at him, a look Chris didn’t recognize on his face. He gave Vin a nod, once he was sure he had his attention. “You’re probably seeing two of me about now, huh?”

“Dr. Roberts?” Chris heard from somewhere behind him. “The OR is ready.”

“Tell them we’ll be up in ten,” the white-coated woman answered as she stepped back from the bed. She approached Chris, breaking his line of sight with Vin. 

He didn’t lose the feeling that something wasn’t quite right as he lost eye contact with Vin and her face filled his field of vision instead.

“You’re his family?“ she asked, continuing right on as he nodded. “We’re going in to stop that bleeder, then if he’s stable, the orthopedic surgeon will realign his leg. You can have two minutes with him. His head scans are clear; there’s no bleeding in his brain, but he’s not coherent and he’s having memory problems that we still don’t know the extent of.” She took a breath and waited for him to ask a question. 

He didn’t have any questions though. He was on their turf and he’d have to trust they could do their jobs. It wasn’t like he could scrub up and do it for them. He almost let out an inappropriate chuckle at the absurd thought, before he realized he was pretty fucking close to losing it.

“Let him know he’s going to be all right and he’s got someone waiting for him. Like I said, you’ve only got a couple of minutes before we take him to the OR. I wish we had more time to get a better picture of the head injury, but we’ve waited as long as we can on that bleeder.”

Chris nodded again; he didn’t have anything to say. She nodded back and practically scurried off, marshalling her team, kind of like he did with his. He hesitated before stepping up to the side of the bed, letting the last of the medical teams finish what they were doing.

“Hey,” he said as he leaned over the bed so Vin could see him better. “Nobody ever teach you to look both ways?”

His joke fell flat as Vin stared up at him, expression blank. 

“Got you good, but you’re going to be all right. Only thing you’re going to be riding for awhile though is a desk, looks like.”

Vin didn’t answer and Chris reached out to push his hair off his face. His feeling that something wasn’t right, became more than a feeling as Vin practically knocked his hand away. And even though Vin’s reaction to him smarted, he was more concerned with the blank look on Vin’s face. 

“I’ll see you when they’ve got you settled in a room. You’re doing good, the doctor said.” Chris didn’t try to touch him again. If he did, it would be for his own sake. He gave Vin a nod and backed off so the orderlies could do their job.

“Mr. Larabee?” the trauma coordinator asked and Chris stepped away further.

“Time for the paperwork, right?” Chris asked, giving her a tight smile. It didn’t have the effect he’d intended though as she stepped back from him a little.

“He really is doing well. I’ll probably be off his case within a day.”

He gave her another nod and this time, didn’t try to smile at her. He reminded himself that she dealt with major trauma cases everyday. She knew what she was talking about. But he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something big.

*****

The rest of the guys arrived at the hospital while Vin was still in surgery. Chris nodded to each of them in turn, acknowledging them, yet keeping silent. They knew him well enough by now; they wouldn’t give his silence a second thought. 

He stared at the empty cup in his hands, trying to decide whether or not he wanted more coffee. On one hand, it was the middle of the night but on the other, he didn’t plan on sleeping anyway.

He crushed the cup and glanced around. Buck sat next to JD, both of them with their heads bowed over JD’s laptop. Josiah and Nathan sat together in the corner, talking softly. And Ezra. He was on the phone, had been for awhile now. Chris heard small pieces of conversation; Ezra was working old contacts at the FBI, trying to get more information on the agents who’d interrogated Vin.

He stared at his hands. The cup was more interesting.

“Chris?”

He looked up to find Ezra standing over him. “Learn anything?”

Ezra gave a tight nod. “Nothing worthwhile. Our visitors are on special assignment. A very hush-hush affair.”

Chris gave a nod of his own and stared off at the far wall again. Vin was in there a long time for the type of surgery he’d been told they would be doing. He resisted the urge to sigh and the urge to pace. He needed to do something. He couldn’t sit there with nothing for company other than his thoughts. He knew getting involved with Vin on a more personal-- make that very personal level-- was wrong. Knew it the entire time. Did it anyway, too. 

He knew this could happen. Though he’d expected a gunshot wound on duty, not for Vin to be smashed like a bug on a windshield while he had a ring-side seat. He’d been prepared for a shooting. Told himself hardly any Federal agents were shot, if you looked at the big picture. Told himself he could handle the odds. All the while the two of them got closer and closer. Made it hard to do his job, sometimes. The rules against relationships between team members were there for a reason. A damn good reason.

He glanced around the room again. Wondered if their hidden relationship really was all that hidden. He supposed Buck knew. He’d made too many double-entendres and snide comments. Too many for even him. They hadn’t talked about it and they wouldn’t. It would be too awkward and it was flat out none of his business. Buck would tell him it was wrong to go swimming in the company pool. While Buck flirted with every woman who crossed his path, he didn’t date anyone in the office.

Why was he thinking about this now. He was in too damn deep to decide he’d made the wrong decision. It was too late now. He’d give up the job before he gave up Vin. Something clicked then and he turned his eyes back on Buck. Buck knew before Chris did that if it came right down to it, he’d choose Vin over the job. It added another layer to the situation, didn’t it? Damn. 

This time, when the urge to get up and move hit him, he didn’t shove it away. He went to the window and stared into the night skyline. It was a pretty night. Of course it was. The last time he faced this situation, it was a pretty night too. Made it all seem even more unfair. 

“I’m gonna go grab some grub. Who’s in?”

Chris listened as his team members gave Buck their orders. When they were done, when Buck hovered a few feet behind him, reflection ghosting in the window Chris stared out, he said softly, “Coffee.”

Buck’s hand reached out, a ghostly appendage reflected in the window, part of the skyline. It fell back before it reached him. When had he become such a cold son-of-a-bitch that his best friend hesitated to touch him. He didn’t need to think too hard to answer that question. 

Buck returned after a time, handing out packaged food and steaming cups of coffee. Chris still stood at the window, but he’d turned around to stare around the bare waiting room long before Buck returned. He took the sandwich he didn’t order without voicing a complaint. He knew it was coming anyway.

“You gonna eat standin’ up?” Buck asked him.

He rested his steaming cup of coffee on the windowsill and made a point of unwrapping the sandwich and shoving half of it in his mouth. It tasted like cardboard, but he knew that before he’d taken the first bite. It didn’t take him long to finish it and he picked up his coffee. He sat back down, cradling the cup in his hands and staring into it. Didn’t he already do this?

“Hey, Chris?”

He met Buck’s eyes, followed them down the corridor.

“Ain’t that Vin’s nurse?”

It was. He set his cup on his chair as he stood. He meant to meet her halfway, but he couldn’t seem to get his legs to move. Soon enough, she joined him. She was smiling. Good sign, right? He didn’t remember seeing the last trauma coordinator he worked with smiling. He couldn’t control the paths his mind took, it seemed. He normally had much better control over his own thoughts. Yup. Getting involved with Vin had been wrong. He’d do it again.

“Mr. Larabee,” she said, extending her hand. 

He met her firm handshake with one of his own. 

“Vin’s in recovery now. The orthopedist set his leg while he was under. That’s why the surgery lasted this long. He’s doing very well.”

He nodded to her; he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Buck clamped a hand onto his shoulder, his earlier reluctance to touch gone. Chris leaned into the embrace, completely against his own will.

“When can we see him?” Buck asked. She started to shake her head, but Buck cut her off. “Just a little peek?” he asked, turning on the charm. “We’ll leave as soon as we set eyes on him.”

“I’m staying,” Chris said. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and he wouldn’t try to charm his way into it either. Another reason this thing he had with Vin was wrong. If they could be open about what they meant to each other, he wouldn’t need to have this conversation. 

“He’ll be in recovery for at least another hour,” she said after staring at both of them. She turned around to the other four men hovering just behind her and smiled a little wider. “Let me guess, you’re all going to clutter our halls until you get a little peek?”

Her smile was infectious, all but Ezra smiling back at her. Chris stared at him until he looked away. Ezra knew more than he was letting on, Chris knew it as soon as Ezra glanced away from him. He was off his game, if Chris could read him so easy.

Why the hell couldn’t he concentrate? He met the nurse’s eyes again, letting her know without words that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Orders are for one visitor only. I’m sorry.” Some of the shine came off her smile, but it didn’t disappear completely. “As we discussed earlier, he’s having some memory problems and until we can asses his state of mind, it’s not a good idea for him to have too many visitors.”

She gave each of them a nod good night before saying, “I’ll come get you once he’s settled into a room, then I’m off for the night.”

“Fine,” Chris answered her, dismissing her without much more thought. 

His mind wandered again, against his will again. The look on Vin’s face had said it all, but he was too busy with his own worries for it to really register. Vin had no idea who the hell he was. And if he didn’t know Chris, he sure as hell wouldn’t know the rest of his teammates. 

“Why don’t you all head home and get some sleep,” Chris finally said.

Buck shook his head. “I’m staying. Even if I can’t see Junior.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Chris said. “Go get some sleep.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again pretty quick. 

“All of you. Go home. Come back in the morning-- before you go to the office.”

“Chris?” Josiah said. “There weren’t any surprises in the report from the crime lab. I have it in my bag if you’d like me to leave it here with you.”

“Yeah,” Chris said, nodding. He turned back to the window and watched the rest of them give each other looks, then finally all but Buck clear out.

“Before you say anything, I’m stayin’.”

Chris let the silence stretch out, studying his own reflection and the night sky. “He doesn’t remember me.”

“What?”

“When I saw him earlier. Before they took him into surgery. He had no fucking clue who I was. Took me awhile to figure out.”

“He took a good whack to the noggin’, Chris. Hell, last time I had a concussion, I didn’t remember my own name for a couple hours. Remember?”

“Buck. You didn’t see the look on his face.”

“You borrow more trouble and Ezra’s likely to charge you interest.”

“Speaking of,” Chris said as he turned around to lean against the windowsill. “Find out what he’s holding back. That’s how you can help.”

“In the morning’,” Buck called as he settled into a sofa about two feet too short for his lanky frame. “I’m planning on catchin’ a few winks before Vin’s in his room. Ol’ Ez will have more information for me to pry out of him come morning if I know him like I think I do.”

Within minutes, Buck’s loud snores filled the waiting room. Sleep would be nice, but Chris knew he wouldn’t be getting any. Most of the initial heart-stopping fear was gone. The residual gut clenching from witnessing what could easily have been Vin’s death would be with him for awhile, but he knew from experience that even the worst things a man witnessed wouldn’t be so sharp after a few days. He’d learned that on his first mission as a SEAL. Learned it again and again over the years, too. Vin wasn’t going to die. He’d probably be out for a time with that leg, and with the belly surgery, but he’d recover. 

What he couldn’t keep from turning over in his head though, was the idea that Vin hadn’t recognized him and the fact Vin had two FBI agents dogging his trail. If they knew Vin’s life was at risk and didn’t warn him, there was going to be hell to pay, Chris Larabee style.


	3. 3

*****

Clock-watching never went well; Chris knew that. He did it anyway. Fifty-seven minutes since he was told it would be an hour before Vin was out of recovery. He dropped his hand back to his lap, turning over his wrist so he wouldn’t be tempted to watch the minutes turn. He counted the seconds off in his head, not able to stop himself. The next time he raised his watch, another two minutes had passed. He’d give them sixty-three minutes, then he was going to track someone down.

At sixty-one minutes, his phone rang. He glanced down the corridor before answering it. No one coming, he took the call.

“Chris,” Ezra’s voice came over the line. Clearly wide awake.

“What did you learn?”

“How is Mr. Tanner?”

“He’s still in recovery,” Chris said. He waited for Ezra to get to the reason for his call. 

“I’ll be by in the morning on my way into the office. Let him know my thoughts are with him, if you would.”

“You get any information?”

“Agents Breen and Dawson were formally attached to the FBI’s cyber crimes unit. Eight months ago, they were assigned to a special task force based out of the Justice Department. I haven’t located any records that would even hint at what they are investigating.”

Chris waited for Ezra to tell him the rest. But the line remained silent. “That it?”

“Unfortunately. With more time, I may be able to acquire more information, but my inquiries will not remain unnoticed.”

Chris leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He scrubbed his free hand over his face, then through his hair. “So it started as computer crime investigation and they stumbled into something else.”

“It would appear so, Mr. Larabee.”

“And Vin got on their list at some point.”

“It would appear that he *is* their list if the length of today’s interrogation is an accurate indicator.”

“What makes you think they suspect today wasn’t an accident?”

“They came right out and said it-- though not to any of us. I- ahem- overheard them. They seemed quite concerned about the probability of a leak within their own investigation.”

“Shit. Those fucking imbeciles. They led their suspect right to their witness. What kind of fucking…”

Ezra cut off his tirade before he could get too far, shouting his name into the phone until he had to pull it off his ear.

“Find out what you can, Ezra.”

“In their meager defense, they are used to investigating computers, not humans,” Ezra said at normal volume. “They were quite concerned with Mr. Tanner’s health and they, at least, were convinced he would participate in their investigation. Their excitement was quite palpable. Almost like our own team‘s when the end of a long investigation is very near.”

“They’re in for some disappointment then. He won’t help them. He can‘t,” Chris said, letting the silence on the line stretch for a moment. “I don’t think he even knows who he is right now. And keep that to yourself, Ezra.”

“Of course,” Ezra sighed. “That does change things.”

“How so?” 

“Their plans include taking a deposition from Mr. Tanner come morning.”

“They tell you that?”

“I may have followed them to their hotel and booked the room adjacent to theirs. I might even be there right now.”

“Good work, Ezra. Keep them away from here, you hear me?”

“And how do you suggest I accomplish that?”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

“Yes. I think I might have an idea-- or several.”

“Good. Ezra…” he noticed the shadow standing over him as he was about to tell Ezra to damn secrecy and finesse to hell, just find out what the fuck was going on. “Ezra, I’ve got to go. Keep in touch.”

“That I will.”

Chris flipped his phone shut without another word, not surprised the shadow belonged to Vin’s trauma coordinator.

“Mr. Larabee? If you’ll follow me?”

He spared a glance for Buck, still stretched out on the couch, still sound asleep. He’d let him stay that way for now. Later, when he had news, he’d fill Buck in. One of them should catch a little shut-eye while they could. He didn’t want Vin left unguarded and he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could do it alone, twenty-four hours a day.

“Coming,” he said to the nurse when he noticed her arched brow. Right. No cell phones. He stuffed it into his pocket and followed her down the hall to the elevator.

“He’s on the orthopedic ward rather than the surgical ward. The doctors performed laparoscopic surgery on his belly so he should recover from that quickly. His leg, however…” she let the rest trail off as the elevator opened onto a quiet floor. 

Chris stopped outside the door they were about to enter. He’d feel better having the information before he went in there. If he knew what the hell he was talking about, he wouldn’t sound like an idiot when Vin asked him. “His leg?” he prompted the nurse.

“He was hit by the car right about mid-thigh,” she gestured on her own leg, “and his femur snapped. It was a clean break, but fractures to the femur can be complicated.”

“How long will it take him to recover? His job isn’t a desk job.”

“It’s a little soon to be worried about that, Mr. Larabee.”

He nodded to her. She had a point there.

“He has an incision that begins on his left buttock- and continues midway down his thigh-- that’s where the orthopedist inserted the titanium rod. Because he’s under thirty, it’s recommended the rod be removed in eighteen months. Again, not something to concern yourself with right now. For now, help him get his bearings. He’s going to be here for three to six days depending on his recovery.”

“That’s all?”

“Barring complications, yes. And I’ll be off his case come morning. He’ll no longer need my services. And that’s a good thing,” she said as she smiled again. She pushed open the door, not waiting to see if Chris followed.

“Wait-- one more thing,” Chris called softly. As soon as she turned around, he called her back from the room. “His security may be an issue. Does he have a roommate?”

She did the eyebrow arching thing again-- and it would be intimidating if he were a different man. He might as well be out with it. “There’s a chance he was run down.”

“You didn’t bother to let security know?” She shook her head, then checked the wall next to the door. “He’s the only one in this room. I’ll notify security. I’m sure someone will come to see you. You’re federal agents, you said?”

“ATF.”

“No one’s going to bomb my hospital, right?” she asked with a nervous chuckle.

“No, nothing like that. Me or one of my men will be here at all times.”

She gave him another nod and gestured toward Vin’s room.

He still didn’t want to actually step inside. All these hours waiting and he kept putting off actually stepping inside the damn room. What the fuck was his problem?

“He’s still groggy from the anesthesia, but he‘s conscious,” the nurse said from over by the bed. “He’ll feel the effects for the next twenty-four hours or so and we probably won’t have a full picture of his head injury until then. You can come closer,” she said when he hovered in the doorway.

He didn’t step further into the room, just watched her fuss over Vin, calling his name until his eyes opened. He couldn’t hear Vin’s answers to her soft questions. He felt like he was about to drop and quietly took a seat by the door. 

He let her continue to fuss with Vin, still not moving from his seat. He didn’t want to face the blank look, the questions-- the confirmation to his suspicion that Vin didn’t know who the hell he was.

The delay between her questions and Vin’s answers lengthened until Chris knew Vin was asleep. Moments later, she joined him across the room.

“He should sleep for quite a few hours. In addition to the lingering effects of the anesthesia, he’s on some pretty strong pain killers.”

He nodded to her, but didn’t rise from his seat.

She stared at him for a long moment and he could tell she was assessing his state of mind. It wasn’t hard to figure out, even as tired as he was.

“Like I said, I’m off his case now. He’s no longer critical and no longer needs my services.” She extended her hand, holding an assortment of business cards and it took Chris a minute to figure out she was giving them to him. “Orthopedist, neurologist, internist, psychiatrist,” she said as he took them from her hand.

He took notice at the last one. Psychiatrist. 

“Standard procedure when dealing with memory loss. I know you haven’t had time to give it much thought, but he’s missing a significant portion of his memory. In many cases, when diagnosing severe retrograde amnesia, the root cause is not physical but psychological. I wanted you to be prepared when the psychiatrist comes to see him tomorrow or the day after.” 

He knew he wasn’t hiding his thoughts, knew it for sure when she frowned at him and told him, “No one is saying he’s crazy. It’s part of their job to find out what’s causing his memory loss and to help him through it.”

Damn straight. If this psychiatrist waltzed in and said Vin had some sort of hysterical amnesia he’d be all over him. He glanced down at the card. He‘d deal with the psychiatrist when the time came. “Thank you,” he told the nurse, who still hovered over him. He actually meant it, too. She’d been fantastic.

“Chris?”

He stopped fingering the business cards and looked up to meet her eyes. For the first time, she didn’t look too sure of herself. 

“In the ER, during the orientation screening, we asked him if he knew what year it was.”

“And?” He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like her answer.

“He was asked a few different times. He gave the same answer each time.”

He didn’t ask again, just waited for her to be out with it.

“I want you to be prepared. He might even have regained some memory when he comes out from under completely. In case he hasn‘t…”

“Ma’am?” Chris asked, giving her his command voice, only half aware he was doing it until he heard his own tone.

“He thinks it’s 1992.”

Took Chris a minute to do the math. Twenty-seven minus thirteen. Shit. Vin thought it was 1992 and he was 14 years old. Made him wish he actually pushed Vin about his childhood. But it hadn’t mattered. All of a sudden it did. He had no idea what Vin had been up to in 1992. Had no idea where he lived or who he’d been. Only thing he knew was Vin was orphaned at five, lived in foster and group homes. Knew he joined the army on his eighteenth birthday, but beyond that… he was in the dark. And he wasn’t the only one now.

*****


	4. 4

*****

Nearly morning and Chris had spent a sleepless night watching Vin fidget. While Vin wasn’t truly awake, he hadn’t really gotten any rest, either. He’d watched when a nurse changed the dressing and checked the drain at around three AM. Vin hadn’t woken completely, but did sort of respond to questions. Must be some really good dope they had him on. And after seeing the wound on his leg, he was sure it was a damned good thing he was so doped up. Looking at the x-rays had turned Chris’ stomach more than the foot long, stapled closed incision. He had half a hardware store inside his leg. That was gonna hurt. If they ever let up on the drugs enough for him to feel it.

Once the new nurse left, Chris had nothing to do but stare at the walls and wait for morning, when one of his men would relieve him for a few hours. They’d set up a protection detail then. He’d deal with the FBI then too-- if they had the balls to come to the hospital. They wouldn’t have them long, they did that.

Four AM and still no change. More drain checks, more drugs administered. More boredom and anxiety and other feelings he didn’t like. At least this latest nurse brought him coffee. He didn’t even thank the man, he realized long after he’d gone. 

Next thing Chris knew, light streamed through the partially closed blinds. A quick glance at his watch confirmed what the sun told him. Morning. After six. Some sentry he was. He’d ride anyone on his team’s ass for weeks, if they fell asleep on watch. He scrubbed at his face and glanced over toward the bed. Did a double-take when open eyes met his. He didn’t say anything, just locked eyes with Vin, a repeat of the very first time they met. Hell, to Vin, this might as well be their first meeting.

He couldn’t get much of a read from Vin as the moment stretched out. Saw pain, confusion and resignation. The last one threw him a little, but he kept his own gaze steady, confident that no matter what, they were still simpatico. He wouldn’t accept anything else. 

“Reckon you’re here to take me in,” Vin said in a soft, raspy drawl, eyes still locked with Chris‘.

That was the last thing he expected to hear. Didn’t try to hide his surprise at all. 

“You’re a cop, ain’tcha?” Vin asked in reaction.

Took him a minute to find the right answer. Kept his eyes locked with Vin‘s while he thought about what to say. He finally settled on the simple truth. “I’m your friend.”

Only thing he could read from Vin now was lost. Completely and totally lost. And scared. It was crystal clear to him that Vin knew something happened, knew something was off-kilter, but couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

He took his time getting to his feet; he didn’t have a choice on that one. Sleeping sitting up in a chair wasn’t something a man with forty-odd years of hard living ought to do. He moved slowly, kept his hands at his sides and claimed the chair right next to Vin’s bed. He didn’t need to be a psychiatrist to know the next few minutes would be critical. He stayed relaxed, even hauled his feet up onto the rung at the bottom of Vin’s bed. 

“Vin,” Chris said once he’d settled in. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out you’re in the hospital.” And he got the smile he was going for. He smiled back. “You were hit by a car. You remember anything?”

Vin shook his head slightly, a barely perceptible motion. He looked scared again, too. Looked like he’d lost some of his inscrutableness along with some of his memories. While he’d always been able to read Vin pretty easy, Chris’d lay odds on anyone being able to do it now. Took him a minute to get his train of thought back on track. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Chris asked him.

“Hot dogs.”

“Hot dogs?”

“Had hot dogs for dinner. Then lights out.” 

“Nothing else?”

Hell, Vin had never been very good at concealing the truth from Chris. Was even worse at it now, in pain and lost like he was. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to panic him. “It’s all right,” he said, not able to stand that look in Vin’s eyes. What Vin didn’t want to share wasn’t important right now. What was important, he reminded himself, was giving Vin some kind of anchor. Making it through the next few days. Then getting to the bottom of whatever the fuck was going on.

“You hurting?” Chris asked when Vin shifted and visibly flinched in pain.

He got a nod as his only answer and pointed out the morphine pump. “Hit that button and it’ll give you some relief.” Chris gave him a few minutes to let the drugs dull the pain. “Hit the button on the end of the cord, too. Should probably let the staff know you’re awake.”

Vin did it without question. Kind of surprised Chris a little, but he didn’t let it show.

“Name’s Chris,” he said once Vin’s eyes were on his again. A little dulled, but still paying attention. “Doc said you’re having some memory problems.”

Vin nodded to him. He’d obviously already figured that much out. 

“You hit your head pretty good. And while you got a hard head, it ain’t that hard compared to a ton of steel.” He got another lopsided smile out of Vin. This was going a hell of a lot better than he’d expected.

“You a cop?” Vin asked again.

Chris nodded. “So are you.”

Vin gave him that, ‘are you shitting me,’ look that he was so good at. 

Made Chris smile to see so many of Vin’s familiar expressions. He was still Vin. Hell, he’d still be Vin Tanner even if he didn’t know he was. Gave Chris a little more confidence that he could handle this. 

“You tired?” Chris asked as Vin’s eyes started to droop.

“A mite,” Vin said by way of an answer as his eyes drifted completely closed. He went silent for a time, almost convincing Chris he‘d drifted off. 

Vin‘s soft drawl ended the silence. “Thought you was here to take me in for killing Jess. Last thing I remember clear is the cops coming to the ranch. Eli said ya’ll was there to arrest me. Said I was gonna get the needle.”

Chris sat up and took notice. He’d never heard about any of this. Vin had never so much as even hinted. It wasn’t anywhere in his records, either. He’d get Ezra on the info as soon as he heard from him. See if it couldn’t be tied into the god-damned FBI and the investigation that caused this. If they were looking at one of his team for a fifteen year old murder and tried to hide it, their lives wouldn’t be worth fucking living.

He fumed for a minute, only realizing he was gripping the arms of the chair when his fingers cramped. He was damned well ready to go knock some heads together, but at this hour of the day, there wasn’t much he could do. 

“Didn’t do it,” Vin said, so soft Chris almost didn’t hear him. His eyes were still closed and he was about to drift off. “Didn’t think them cops’d believe me. Not no one done believed me ‘bout nothing before. Treated me like I weren’t nothin’ but a burden on the system. Lit out as soon as Eli told me them cops was there. Weren‘t about to go back to Juvie.”

Back. Back to Juvie. So Vin spent some time in lock-up. That explained a few things. Put Vin in a room he couldn’t get out of, no matter the size, and he’d be ready to chew his own leg off to get out. He didn’t like to be inside when he could be outside and he didn’t like to be cornered. Chris had always chalked it up to Vin’s time in the Rangers. Chris had some of the same quirks and knew it was from his own time in the service. Lessons drilled in so hard, and with such high stakes, never went unlearned. Looked like Vin’d learned them earlier than Chris had figured him doing.

He looked up to find Vin sound asleep. He wouldn’t be getting any more answers. He quietly stood and checked the door, looking for a staff member. It’d been at least ten minutes since Vin pressed the call button.

The main nurses’ desk stood empty, but Chris could hear a commotion down the hall. He stepped back into Vin’s room but Vin was out cold. He was getting antsy, the need to be *doing* something nearly overwhelming him. He paced to the door again and nearly ran Buck down as he stepped out the door.

Buck looked like he’d spent the night in his clothes, which he had.

“He wake up yet?” Buck asked as he looked Chris up and down.

Chris nodded to him and gestured for him to go back into the hall. They needed to talk and since the corridor was deserted, they could do it here and now. He’d send Buck out with Ezra, get the two of them onto the trail. They worked well together. They’d get some answers, he was damn sure of that. Didn’t take long for him to fill Buck in, the harried looking nurse from the night shift slipping by them and into Vin’s room without interrupting their conversation. 

He sent Buck off to join Ezra, then settled in to wait for either Vin to wake again or for one of his other team members to show. And while he didn’t like what he’d learned, it was much better than the fumbling in the dark he’d been doing.

*****

Chris was dead on his feet. Only, he wasn’t on his feet. He was stuck in fucking traffic. He was gonna fall asleep behind the wheel if he didn’t get out of this mess. He jabbed a finger at the radio controls. Stupid fucking talk radio. Only thing they were good for was… well he couldn’t think of anything. 

He left JD with Vin only twenty minutes before. Vin hadn’t woken again and it felt a little wrong to be leaving him with someone he didn’t know. Only Vin didn’t know anyone, so there really wasn’t any help for it. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t sit by Vin’s side twenty-four hours a day. All right, maybe he didn’t want to sit at the hospital. Vin was in good hands, his body would heal and they’d take it one day at a time with the memory issues. He thought amnesia was a temporary thing, but he had to admit he didn‘t know much about it. 

He started hitting radio buttons again. He needed music, any music. Something to keep him awake. His phone rang just as he finally got onto the highway.

“Larabee.”

“It’s Buck.”

“Anything new?”

“Sort of. I need your okay to expense some tickets to Texas.”

Chris had to think about that one. Official business? If the hit-and-run wasn’t an accident, then yeah, this could be official business. But an attack on a federal agent would fall under the FBI’s jurisdiction. 

“Have Ezra put it on one of his credit cards and I’ll pay him back.”

“We flying under the radar on this one?”

“Why are you going to Texas?”

Buck paused and Chris knew he was debating whether to ask his question again.

“Buck,” Chris warned. “Why are you going to Texas?”

“We’re going back to the scene of the crime.”

“We don’t know there’s been a crime,” Chris nearly yelled into the phone. Vin didn’t kill anyone. He knew that much deep in his gut.

“Hell, Chris, you know it’s just a saying. Ez tried getting the records over the computer, but nothing doing. Too far back. We figured to do some old-fashioned foot work.”

“Keep me updated,” Chris said as he flipped his phone closed

He‘d be home in less than forty-five minutes. It should be clear sailing right on into his driveway. He‘d tend to the horses first, then shower and nap. Get some of Vin’s things, then head back. He really didn’t like leaving Vin with only JD, but that couldn’t be helped. Someone had to hold down the fort at the office and one rookie agent wouldn’t cut it. Josiah and Nathan could handle the office and all of them would stay in touch over the phone. He owed Travis a call-- but not right now. His mind raced through all of the details of what needed to be done. 

Bottom line was he needed to call a meet with the FBI computer geeks running this half-assed investigation. They had the answers he needed. But would it be better to wait for Buck and Ezra to get back from Texas first? Would his approach fly with the FBI agents? Since his approach consisted of nailing them to a wall by the throat with his forearm, it might not be the best idea. Yet.

He pulled off the highway with no answers to his questions, just an ever increasing level of frustration. He’d been too happy, too content, too willing to not question anything he’d found over the past year with his new team and new career. His new life. Damn straight he’d been happy. And someone was trying to fuck with that. He damn well wasn’t about to take it. Not even from the god damned Federal Bureau of Investigation. Especially not from them.

It didn’t take him long to tend to his chores, or to shower. He did it all as if he had a mission planned. He didn’t, but that was the only way for him to get through the details. Buck and Ezra would be in Texas before long. If they couldn’t get anywhere, he’d go down there and meet them. Because that’s where the answers were. His gut told him so. His gut also told him he wouldn’t like the answers. Or maybe that was hunger talking.

When he laid down on his bed-- his still unmade, still faintly smelling of sex bed-- he only did it because he knew he had to. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. It was nearly noon and the sun was damn bright, but he pulled the blinds and willed himself to sleep. He’d had plenty of practice at it over the years.

The shrill ring of his bedside phone woke him hours later. His bedroom dark, he was completely disoriented. It had to be late afternoon, since his bedroom wasn’t being lit by the sun any more, but it wasn’t dark yet. He hadn’t meant to sleep so long; the realization he had was enough to get him moving pretty damn quick. He scooped the still-ringing portable phone from its cradle as he headed to the bathroom.

“Larabee,” he barked.

“It’s Buck.”

“You there yet?” he asked Buck as he cradled his phone to his head with his shoulder, pulled his dick out of his shorts and took aim. 

“Been here a couple of hours.”

“And?” he asked, finishing his business and flipping on the bathroom lights. Nearly dropped the phone when he got a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit.

“We’re in a town called Boys Ranch, Texas. Used to be a cow town called Tascosa, but it got turned into a home for boys in the thirties.”

“There a reason for this history lesson, Buck?” Chris asked as he started looking for clothes.

“Course there is, stud. I don’t yap to hear myself talk.”

He could hear the humor in Buck’s voice, but he wasn’t in any kind of mood for it. “That where Vin lived?” he asked as he found a clean pair of jeans and a shirt.

“According to the Texas Department of Protective and Regulatory Service -- damn mouthful, ain’t it? Anyway, got them on the phone and they said Vin got sent here when he was about thirteen or so. He disappeared about a year and a half later. Let me tell ya, it was like herding cats to get that much from them. We figure this is where ‘Jess’ died, but we couldn’t get anything without a last name. We’re gonna get our feet on the ground come morning. We already got an appointment.”

“Good work. Tell Ezra the same.”

“I called the hospital. JD said you been gone all day. Everything all right?”

“Fine, Buck. I overslept. I’m going back there now.”

“JD’ll be glad to hear that. He was afraid to call you. I said I‘d check on you. So I‘m checking. You all right?”

“Leave it alone, Buck.”

“If you need to talk, you call me, Chris. I mean it.”

“I’m fine, Buck. Vin’s gonna be fine.”

“That ain’t what I’m talking about, damn it!”

Chris held back a sigh. No use letting Buck know he’d riled him up. “Then what are you talking about?”

“I know it’s gotta be hard on you being at that hospital, Chris. You need me to be there?”

“I need you right where you are.”

“I’m serious, Chris. You need me, I can be there quick. We’re only about four hundred miles from home.”

“I’m all right, Buck. Been too busy to do much thinking.”

“We’re planning on coming home tomorrow night. You go after them FBI guys, you bring Josiah or Nathan with you, you hear me, Chris?”

Sometimes, it pissed him right the fuck off, how well Buck knew him. This time, it made him smile. “I’m not planning on talking to them just yet, Buck. Won’t get anything out of them anyway. Whatever it is they’re sitting on, they aren’t likely to share.”

“Ez said they’re working within some kind of time limit. And the deadline is coming up fast.”

“He sit by the wall with a glass last night?”

“Who knows how Ezra gets his intel. I don’t think I want to,” Buck said with a laugh.

“He there?” Chris asked. He stuck the phone between his shoulder and ear again as he rummaged through the refrigerator. He needed fuel before he hit the road again.

“Nope. He’s at the library looking at old newspapers.”

“Surprised he let you off the hook. Sounds kind of like manual labor.”

“He said I’d be in his way and I’d distract him when I got bored. Don’t got any idea where he got that notion.”

Chris nearly snorted the mouthful of milk he’d just swigged from the carton right out of his nose. Fuckin Buck. “Keep in touch,” Chris said as he hung up. Fuckin Buck all right, making him feel better with a ten minute phone call. He grabbed the stuff to fix a sandwich and slammed the fridge door. He owed JD a phone call, but that could wait until he’d eaten.

*****


	5. 5

*****

He ended up not making that phone call. He meant to do it on the drive to the hospital, but he’d forgotten to plug in his phone before he went into the house. Dead phone, so no call. It ate at him a little, not knowing what happened all day, but now he could actually think again, rather than use all of his reserves just to stay on his feet. And at least he found a radio station playing music. 

He glanced over to the passenger seat, double checking he’d remembered his bag. He’d packed some things so he could sleep at Vin’s apartment rather than driving back and forth out to his place. Brought his most pressing work too. 

He’d arranged for care for the horses, called Travis, ate-- basically put things in order so he’d be free for the next few days, at least. Free to try to connect with someone who had no fucking clue who he was. They’d gotten off to a good start, though. He could hold onto that. 

This time, he didn’t hesitate on his way to Vin’s room. Taking some time away was the best thing he could have done. He knew that, but not until he’d done it. Got his head on straight, recharged his batteries, came up with a game plan. Thought up lots of clichés, too. He shook his head at his himself as he turned the last corner to the corridor leading to Vin’s room. Came up short when he spotted a man sitting at attention in a chair outside the door.

“Who are you?” he asked as he reached for his badge.

“Special Agent Fisk, FBI, Agent Larabee. Special Agent Dunne has been expecting you all day.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Protection detail.”

“On whose order?”

“Special Agent in Charge Breen, sir.”

Chris’ good mood deserted him in an instant. “Tanner’s not in any shape for an interrogation. I’ll have you barred from the hospital, if I need to. We clear?”

Fisk snapped to attention, nearly saluting. “Yes, sir! Agent Dunne made that clear earlier, sir.”

“You come in that room and I’ll have your badge. We clear on *that*?”

“Yes, sir.”

Chris stepped by him and into Vin’s room. Fucking FBI. Heads were gonna roll once this thing was done. They’d violated more procedures, and laws, than he could count, interrogating Vin like they’d done. He might not like having a detail on Vin’s door, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He’d filed a complaint with Travis. He’d have to trust him to do his job. 

“JD,” Chris said as soon as he stepped into the room. The curtain around the bed was closed and he assumed Vin was sleeping or had medical staff tending to him.

“Chris!” JD said as he shot to his feet. “I’ve been wondering when you were coming back. Did you talk to Buck? Do we know what’s going on yet?”

He tossed his bag onto the empty bed and stared at JD, waiting for him to settle down a little. Once JD stopped bouncing around, Chris asked, “You know anything about the FBI agent on the door?”

JD looked a little unsure of himself but started talking anyway. “The two guys who were at our office tried to get in to see Vin but I didn’t let them in. One of Vin’s doctors was here and she backed me up. The one on the door showed up about an hour later. I had Josiah and Nathan check him out. He‘s legit.”

“Good job, JD. You can take off if you want. Come back here in about twelve hours and bring any work you have with you.”

Chris had dismissed JD, or he’d been pretty clear he had, but JD looked like he needed something else. “JD?” Chris asked.

“Uhm… Vin didn’t say a word to me all day. I tried talking to him a few times, but he wouldn’t say anything to me. He made the nurse close his curtain.” 

He should have expected it. He knew that before JD even finished talking. “He’s probably hurting pretty bad, JD,” he said. Whether it was true or not, it obviously made JD feel a little better.

JD nodded. “I guess you’re right. It just feels weird, you know? I mean, how can someone forget fifteen years?”

“I’m sure it’s temporary, JD. Make sure you get some sleep.”

“Right,” JD said, giving him another nod. 

Chris held off on opening Vin’s curtain until JD had gathered his things and left. Put another spin on the closed curtain. Vin was hiding.

“You hear all that?” he asked as he slid back the cloth.

Vin stared up at him from the bed, a big smile on his face. “You came back,” he said softly. 

Chris stopped himself before the words, ‘of course I did,’ came out. That would be a stupid thing to say. “You thought I might not?” he asked softly. He had to keep reminding himself that Vin didn’t know who any of them were. And if no one had told him yet, he didn’t even know what city they were in. Hell, Vin didn’t know anything. 

“Didn’t know,” Vin said, giving a little half-shrug that was so familiar. “Thought you would, but I weren’t sure.”

Chris pointed at the remnants from a recent meal. “Looks like you’re eating good. You feeling better?”

“I feel like I had the stuffing kicked outta me,” Vin said. 

“You tell the doctors?” Chris asked.

Vin looked away and Chris nearly started laughing at him. Looking away wasn’t going to keep Chris from seeing the truth. 

“You sure I ain’t in trouble?” Vin asked, when he met Chris’ eyes again, worry coming through loud and clear. “I mean, there ain’t been even a second where someone ain’t been watching me.”

“You’re not in trouble, Vin,” Chris said as he took a seat so he wouldn’t be looming over the bed. “We’re your friends, that‘s why we‘re watching over you.” He’d keep saying it until Vin got it. For now, he’d take the big smile. “You see any doctors today?”

Vin nodded to him, losing the smile a little. “Can’t keep track of ‘em. One came in to check my belly and another checked my leg. I think that’s all of them. The rest was nurses and such. Gonna make me get outta bed after dinner.”

“Not looking forward to that, huh?” Chris asked as he leaned back in his chair and got comfortable.

“Nope. Can’t even move without my whole body complainin’.”

“Yeah, the doc I talked to this morning said you’re going to be real sore for a few days where they operated on your belly. She said your leg’s going to be sore a lot longer, but that you’re young and healthy, so you’ll be good as new.”

“Young? I look like an old man,” Vin said as he arranged his tray table. He opened it to expose the flip up mirror.

“You been admiring yourself?” Chris asked as he leaned forward to look in the mirror too.

“Cain’t help it,” Vin said as he flipped the mirror closed. “I look at my hands and they’re a lot bigger than I remember, then I have to open the mirror and look at my face again. I’m getting used to it though.”

“You got a lot to get used to until you get your memory back.”

Vin went silent then and Chris figured it was a good a time as any to let it drop. For now. He settled in to get some work done. Vin could drift in and out while he got some work done-- the fog of strong painkillers too familiar to Chris. He’d been shot more than once. Not recently though, but that kind of pain wasn’t something he’d ever forget.

He looked up from his work when he heard a commotion outside the door. He could hear the FBI agent talking with someone and he put his work down to go investigate. He gave Vin a glance before he left the room. Sound asleep, still.

The commotion turned out to be another doctor. This one with a flock of other doctor types accompanying her. “Ma’am?” Chris asked as he stepped into the hallway.

“Hi. I’m Doctor Sheppard,” she said as she extended her hand to shake his. “And these,” she swept her other hand out, “are my students.”

Chris shook her hand, then took a moment to study her face. She looked a little too excited, in his opinion. “It’s kind of late, isn’t it?” Chris asked as he glanced at his watch. Four forty-five.

“I’m on staff at the medical school in addition to my duties here, so I hold late rounds.”

He waited for her to continue. Vin had said he’d already seen his orthopedist and his internist. 

“I’m a psychiatrist,” she finally added.

Good. He‘d had some time to think and now, instead of resenting the implications of her presence, he had a list of things to ask her. “Actually, I’ve been waiting for you,” Chris said to her. “I’d like to speak to you privately.”

“And you are?” she asked him. 

He wondered when she’d get to that part. He needed to talk to her about that.

“Chris Larabee. I’m your patient’s friend and boss,” he said, glancing back at the students watching quietly.

“Perfect,” she said as she smiled at him. “If he didn’t have a support system in place, I planned on making some calls. You’ve saved me some legwork.”

“He’s got a lot of support. It won’t be a problem.”

“All right, how about I examine my patient, then you and I can talk?”

He nodded to her and stepped back into the room before she or her students could, and held up a hand to pause her entry. "Just so we're clear, you won't be parading any students in to gawk at Vin unless he gives permission for them to come in. He's been through enough without feeling like he's on display."

"Of course, Mr. Larabee. With a trauma such as his, I wouldn't have it any other way. And I can assure you, I won't pressure him for his permission, either."

Chris nodded, relieved. "Glad to hear it."

When he turned around, only she followed him.

“I need do a short interview before I ask if I can invite the kids to come in,” she said.

Chris approached the bed, taking in Vin's slack features. “I’ll wake him,” he said quietly, not waiting for her to agree.

It took more than usual to awaken Vin, but Chris had expected that. Had expected him to try to bolt upright as he awoke as well, but a well placed hand on his chest and making sure he could see Chris’ face got him settled quick enough. Chris made the introductions, then stepped back as the doctor conducted her interview. 

There weren’t any surprises with the questions or Vin’s answers; what year does he remember it being, how old was he, as best as he could remember, what does he do for a living, and so forth. Some he answered wrong, some he answered right only because he'd been told, and he was quick to confess the truth in those cases. Vin wasn't exactly malleable, but he was cooperative.

Soon enough she had Vin’s permission-- only slightly reluctant-- to invite her students into the room. Chris followed the next round of questions and answers without comment, but watched Vin closely for signs of agitation. He admired the way the doc did her job though, using a deft hand with her students and respecting her patient, much to Chris' relief. He let his tension slip away as she finished up her lesson and dismissed her students, all with Vin not getting any more nervous than he'd already been.

“That it?” Chris asked her.

“As you heard, he needs a CAT scan. I’ve scheduled it already. Someone should be here to bring him down shortly. His appointment is the last one for the day. If you’d like, we can go to my office and chat while he’s down in Radiology.”

Chris had to think about that. Hell, it wasn’t his decision. “Vin?” he asked, getting Vin’s attention off the TV and back onto his visitors.

“Huh?” Vin asked. Damn, Chris understood Vin was less than twenty-four hours out of surgery and with a head injury, but this falling asleep in seconds had him a little worried anyway.

“Would you like me to come to your test with you?”

Vin shook his head no. “Don’t need to.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to?”

Finally, another grin from Vin. “No, it’s all right. They probably won’t let you in anyways.”

“He’s right,” the doctor said. “No one is allowed in with the patient during a scan.”

“Want me to bring you dinner?” Chris asked. “Yours will be cold by the time you get back.”

“Oh yeah,” Vin said, showing some enthusiasm for the prospect of non-hospital food.

“I need to check with the nurses if your usual is on the menu for you.”

“My usual?” Vin asked.

Chris took his turn to grin, sure that this was one thing that would stand the test of a memory lapse. “Cheeseburger, no lettuce, extra tomato, pickles on the side, hold the catsup and mustard.”

Vin nodded, mouth open. 

“I won’t forget the fries,” Chris said with a small smile at the look on Vin’s face. 

“I musta not changed too much, huh?" Vin asked him.

“The way you *always* order the same thing kind of clued me in that it might be a long-term thing,” Chris told him. “If I’m not here when you get back, I’m out getting our dinner.”

Vin nodded and Chris turned to the doctor, indicating she lead the way. Chris stopped to have a word with the FBI agent, making sure the shift change wouldn’t happen before he returned. He wanted to meet the new guy before this one left. Chris already knew he could trust this one not to let anyone in there to question Vin, and he didn't plan on missing the chance to put the same fear into the new guy.

He followed the doctor to her office silently. It was a long walk through the sprawling complex and he had plenty of time to get his questions in order. By the time they were seated in her office, he had his line of attack planned.

“I hold his medical and legal power of attorney,” Chris said before she could go spouting confidentiality rules to him.

“I saw the note in his file before I went to see him.”

“So you had a pretty good idea who I was before you asked me,” Chris said, trying his best not to glare at her. He had no interest in playing any games, here.

“I thought it was best to confirm your identity before conducting my interview in front of an audience.”

That seemed fair. “I need to tell you something. But I need your word it goes no further than you.”

Her expression said, ‘no shit,’ but he had to confirm the rules. It wasn’t only his career on the line here.

“Vin and I are involved,” he said, wasting no time on any kind of set-up. “Involved on a personal level,” he added when he wasn’t sure she got it.

“Lovers?” she asked. 

He had to give her some credit for showing no surprise or judgment. He’d expected an involuntary reaction from her. If not for them being two men, then for the way their relationship may have looked to an outsider. She knew he was Vin’s boss. He nodded. 

“Is it serious?” she asked him.

“Does that really matter?” 

“In a variety of ways, yes, it does.”

“Very serious,” he said. “I don’t give a shit who knows about it or what it might do to my career, but I can’t decide that for Vin. And he can’t make that decision right now.”

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked him, looking a little suspicious.

“Do I tell him we’re involved?”

She lost her cool façade for a moment, but quickly had it back in place. “Are you looking for an out?” she asked, her tone cold.

“Of course not!” he couldn’t help it, he stood and started pacing. “I am *not* looking for an out,” he said as he came to a stop in front of her desk.

“Then of course you tell him,” she said, still cool. “If you were a woman and the man you were seriously involved with lost his memory, would you keep your relationship from him?”

“Apples and oranges,” he said as he sat back down.

“Not at all, Mr. Larabee.” she leaned forward with her elbows on the desk. “If his case does turn out to have an organic rather than psychological basis, he’s going to need help restoring his memories. They’re not going to just return one day when he wakes up. It’s going to take time and work and if you are in a committed relationship, you’re going to be doing most of the work.”

“Vin does not have hysterical amnesia,” he said, forcefully.

“You heard someone suggest that?”

He nodded.

The doc sighed, then. “I can’t rule that out yet, but I’ll be working with his neurologist to find the cause. We may never know the answer. It would help in devising a treatment if we know the cause, but things aren’t always so easy. We’ll work with what we’ve got. Has he been under any stress lately?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.

He wasn’t going to bring up the interrogation Vin had been through right before the accident. There was no way in hell that Vin would let himself be affected by those guys. No way in hell.

“Our jobs are more stressful than average, but Vin handles it better than average. He‘s served in combat and he‘s a highly trained agent. He‘s got his head screwed on straighter than anyone else on my team, including me.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll need a full history on his life up to the point he can remember, then we’ll try to piece together the rest. And until all the test results are in, the best idea is to let him recover from his other injuries.”

That sounded reasonable. He had one more thing to add though. “I’d like everyone except my team kept from him by order of his doctors. Especially the FBI.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked, that damned eyebrow arched again.

“They want him to be a witness in a case they’re working on, but he doesn’t remember and I don’t want them pushing him. That’s all,” he said when she stared him in the eye. 

“Until we know for sure what’s going on, I won’t allow anyone to interrogate him. Including you and your men.”

He nodded to her. Again, reasonable. Hell, he didn’t have any plans for interrogating Vin. He had Buck and Ezra out there digging up what they needed.

“Any more questions?” she asked him.

“Not tonight.”

“We’re going to have to take a mostly wait and see approach, Mr. Larabee. I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear from me, but it is the reality of the situation. On a more optimistic note, since I received his case file, I’m had my interns working on research. We’ve found a number of similar cases, including one in France that is almost identical to Mr. Tanner’s, and most people, with work, recovered their memories within six months.”

“And the other cases?”

The doc gave a slight shrug. “Some took longer, some shorter, and some never. And if the memory loss isn’t due to organic brain injury but psychological trauma, then we’re looking at an entirely different matter.”

Chris' jaw clenched. “I told you, it’s not that.” 

“If I didn’t keep my mind open to all of the possibilities, I wouldn’t be a very good doctor.” she said as she stood. 

Meeting over. He understood the ‘we’re done’ gesture. He went to the door, but stopped abruptly before going through. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask him questions without me or one of my team there.” He made sure she understood it wasn’t a request.

“I need to make an appointment with my patient?” she said, bristling yet again.

“He’s involved in sensitive, confidential investigations. He won't know what's safe to talk about and what isn't. No questioning without one of us there. It’s not personal,” he added before stepping out the door and shutting it behind himself. 

It hit him about a third of the way down the corridor. He was in fucking denial, the way he refused to even give her question about stress any consideration. Vin wasn’t blocking anything. But he knew he had his own doubts-- which is why he wouldn’t entertain hers. He just hoped Buck and Ezra would have some answers for him tonight.

*****

By the time Chris called and ordered dinner, then went to pick it up, it was after seven. He hoped Vin wasn’t asleep yet and he was starting to wonder when Buck or Ezra would call. He was doing an awful lot of hurrying up and waiting-- or at least it seemed that way.

He ended up parking in the overflow lot since visiting hours were in full force. As he stepped out of his truck, he realized where he was. The entrance he used while he waited three interminable days for his son to die. The bomb that killed his wife and son killed his wife instantly; it was rigged under the driver’s seat, but his son survived the initial blast.

He knew himself better than to use this entrance to the hospital. Instead, he took the long way around. It was better that way. He’d finally stopped thinking about his lost family fifty times a day. Now it was only two or three. And it didn’t hurt quite so bad. Would have hurt less if the FBI hadn’t fucked up the investigation. It *should* have been the ATF’s investigation, but since it was an attack on a federal agent, it fell under the FBI’s jurisdiction. He’d never forget their pissing contests or the fact they didn’t find the killer or killers. He never planned to forget, either.

He wouldn’t let them fuck up when it came to Vin. More than they had already, that is. He used the time to try to piece together the evidence they had so far. There wasn’t much to go on; they had to fill in some pretty big holes before they could get any further.

Fuck waiting for Buck to call, he’d call Buck. He stopped in the smoking area and put down his take-out bag and hit Buck’s number on speed-dial. Buck answered on the third ring.

“Chris,” Buck’s voice came over the line.

“What have you got?”

“No hello for me?” Buck asked. 

Chris knew what Buck was doing. It wasn’t hard to figure it out. But no one would derail him when he was on a mission. Buck ought to know that by now. “Have you learned anything today?” Chris asked.

His answer was a long sigh, then a pause out of Buck. He dropped any pretense it was a normal conversation pretty quick. “We learned a lot. I was going to fill you in tonight.”

“Where are you?”

“Airport waiting for our flight home.”

“I’m on my way back into the hospital with dinner. Give me the short version now.”

You gonna take notes?” Buck asked.

“No, work up a file tomorrow. Just give me what you’ve got for now.” 

“Alrighty. We had a hard time getting any info. There was only one person still on staff from the early nineties.”

“Put all that in the report. Just the highlights for now.”

“Vin got placed here when the group home he was in for a couple of years was shut down by the state. Him and three other kids came here. One of ‘em was Jess Kincaid.”

“The kid Vin said he was wanted for killing.”

“Vin was never a suspect in his death, Chris.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Death looked suspicious at first, but it was ruled a suicide.”

“Then what the fuck is going on?”

“That’s the interesting part. Someone was looking at this case again. Recently.”

“So they’re going to reopen it?”

“It doesn’t have that feel, Chris. I think it might be something else, but we had a real hard time getting anything concrete. The guy we talked to--” the distinctive sound of pages flipping came over the line, “-- Peter Summerland. He said Vin was a real good kid. Quiet as a church mouse, never caused any trouble. Him and Jess, the kid got killed, were good friends. The two others… let me look… here it is-- James Yates and Eli Joe-- that came with them weren’t such good kids.”

“That Eli kid is the one who told Vin the cops were going to arrest him.”

“Kid was a piece of work, Chris. When the group home closed, all the kids got sent to juvie until they found a place for them here. Joe killed a kid in lock-up. It got swept under the rug because the kids in state care shouldn’t have been with the kids doing time and it was ruled self-defense, but Summerland said he’d had his doubts. Yates and Joe were bullies of the worst kind. Guy still remembers them. He wouldn’t have remembered Vin if it wasn’t for Kincaid getting killed.”

“You got current locations on these two?”

“Nothing doing. Records are sealed up tight by the state. Only got what we did because the guy was here. We tried to get access to the files but it won’t happen without a warrant. We‘re gonna work it from our end when we got back. See if they‘re in the system.”

“Great. What time are you getting in?”

“About ten or so.”

“Need a ride?”

“Nope. Ezra’s car is at the airport.”

“I’ve got to head in before dinner’s ice cold instead of kind of cold. I’m not coming in tomorrow. When you got that file finished and if Josiah sets you free, bring it to me here.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Buck, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me shit for this. But don’t worry, the list of other things you owe me for is plenty long enough.”

“Night, Buck.”

“Night, Gracie.”

Fuckin Buck and his ‘Night Gracie’ routine. Man watched too much TV as a kid. Still made him smile. Taking a quick look around, he realized he was still the only one in the smoking area. He didn’t know when he’d get out again, so he took his time and lit up. Had something to keep his mind busy now too. 

So, was Vin a witness to Jess Kincaid’s death or was there new evidence and now he was a suspect? Fuck, this had to be part of something bigger. Fact was, even if Chris didn’t like it, no one was going to reopen a fifteen year old case when the victim was a kid with no family, living in state care. Wasn’t right or fair, but when the hell was life fair?

And what deadline was the FBI working under. Oh fuck. There were probably two FBI agents on Vin’s door now. No way was the first one going to leave without Chris telling him he could. He almost started laughing; oh, he was an evil fucker sometimes, he knew that. The idea of a guy who didn’t even work for the same agency as him, sitting around waiting for Chris to dismiss him was funny.

He put out his cigarette and grabbed dinner. And if he whistled on his way inside, there was no one there to hear him. No one would have believed it anyway.

*****


	6. 6

*****  
Didn’t take him long to get to Vin’s floor since he took the stairs. He took them a few at a time, anxious to get back. He’d been gone a lot longer than he’d intended. And while it might have been fun to keep the FBI waiting, he’d kept Vin waiting too. It wouldn’t have normally been a concern, but the way Vin was relying on him and no one else made him more than a little anxious to be gone so long. In a few days, Vin himself would likely do the weaning, but for now, Chris would leave that up to him.

He spotted the two FBI agents as soon as he turned the corner. He didn’t like what he saw and he had to consciously keep his temper at bay. Head geek was there-- what was his name? Breen. He spotted Chris the same time Chris spotted him and started walking forward to meet him.

He raised his hands, in a ‘wait a minute’ gesture as soon as he got a look at Chris’ face. “I haven’t been in to see him. He’s still down having tests done.”

Chris ignored him and continued to Vin’s room, stepping inside and dropping dinner onto the table by the empty bed. Breen stood in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter. Good. Chris nodded and the FBI agent stepped into the room, eyes darting around the room as though he expected Vin to have been hiding in there.

“You need to call your men off,” Breen said as soon as he looked satisfied they were actually alone. “They’re compromising my investigation!” he huffed, jabbing his hands on his hips.

Chris snorted. “Do I look like I give a shit?”

“You should.”

“Why's that?” Chris asked as he rummaged into the dinner bag, not really caring.

“Because if you care about justice at all, you would let me do my job!”

Chris sighed and looked up from the paper bag, studying the flustered FBI agent. The man had more balls then Chris gave him credit for. He wasn’t much to look at. Looks might be a little deceiving in this case. Late forties, almost bald, tall, stoop shouldered, cheap suit. He was the picture of a mid-level manager. Definitely not the picture of an FBI field agent. Especially not an SAC. Chris studied him a little longer and the man wilted a little more. But he was determined. Even if he was intimidated. 

Chris took his time folding the top of the paper bag again, satisfied that Vin's food wasn't as cold as he'd expected, then he took off his coat, still not saying a word. He turned his back on Breen to hang his coat and picked up the bedside phone. The nurse on duty answered on the first ring. “Can you tell me when Vin Tanner will be back from his tests?” he asked with as much politeness as he could muster.

“They’re running late down in radiology. It could be another hour,” the nurse said. “I’ve just checked on him myself since I’m going to need help getting him settled.”

“Can I get a heads-up before you bring him in?”

“I don’t see why not,” the nurse said, confusion in her voice even as she agreed.

Chris ignored the unvoiced question and hung up after muttering, “Thanks.”

“Agent Larabee,” Breen said as soon as Chris turned around.

“I don’t give a shit about your investigation. The only thing I care about is you fucking over one of my men and I swear, if you set your sights on him, you’re going to regret it. And if I find out his accident wasn’t an accident, you can kiss your career good-bye.”

“My career is over after this case, anyway, Agent Larabee. I know that already, but that won’t stop me. You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, or the lengths the people involved will go to stop this investigation. Call your men off, before they get in over their heads. My career is over, but yours and your teams’ doesn‘t have to be.”

Chris pinned him with a glare. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Breen collapsed into the chair closest to him and wilted even further. He looked up at Chris, taking his time deciding. 

“Well?” Chris asked when the silence went on too long. “I’ve got security clearance and if you have to, you can clear telling me with Assistant Director Travis.” 

“You have no idea what I’m dealing with, here. Even your Director wouldn‘t be cleared for this. The only person who is, is Agent Tanner. And that won’t change. I need to see him. We‘re running out of time.”

Now was as good a time as any to let this guy know that Vin would be useless to him. He knew he was taking a chance, but he‘d take it, if it meant getting some info out of this guy and getting him to back off. “He won’t know you. He has retrograde amnesia.”

Breen's eyebrows knitted together. “Shit. That’s darn convenient, Agent Larabee.”

“Are you saying Vin’s lying?” Chris asked quietly.

The FBI agent back-peddled so fast, Chris thought he‘d sink through the back of his chair. “No, no. It‘s convenient for other people, not him.” Breen stared off into space and Chris could see the wheels turning. “Does he know who he is?” he asked when he met Chris’ eyes again.

Chris hesitated a minute. He was starting to doubt his own reactions at this point. He was ready to treat this guy like the enemy and if he were anything like the other FBI agents he’d dealt with over the years, he’d still think he was the enemy. But this guy was clearly over his head and trying to keep afloat. He thought about his answer for a little longer. “Yes. He knows who he is. But he‘s lost some years.”

Breen perked up a little. “How many?”

“More than ten, less than fifteen.”

Breen didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His face lit up with hope. The guy was an open book. He’d be useless doing interrogations. Gave Chris an answer to one question. He’d narrowed down the time frame and it damned sure looked like this had something to do with Kincaid’s death.

Chris kept staring at him, letting him stew. Didn’t take long for Breen to fill the silence.

“Agent Tanner is the only credible witness we have right now. I need him. If I have to, I’ll issue a material witness warrant.”

Chris called his bluff, knowing it was the one bluff he could afford to call, given Vin's condition and the backing of Vin's doctors. “You can try.”

The phone rang just as Chris was about to ream the guy a new one. He didn’t bother picking it up. “I want you out of here before they bring him in.”

“You don’t have that authority.”

Chris grinned, almost meaning it. “Try me. I’m his next-of-kin and I hold both his legal and medical power of attorney. Until he’s got his feet back under him, you won’t be seeing him, and no warrant can change that.”

Breen glanced toward the door, looking for Vin, Chris guessed, then glanced back at Chris. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and put it on the table, under the napkins, before glancing at the door again.

“I will get that warrant if I need it, Larabee.” He gave Chris a nod and slid a semi-covert glance at the paper before heading for the door.

He was gone before Chris could answer, and after a moment Chris checked the hallway-- Breen had a new man on the door, giving him instructions a few feet away. Chris snatched the paper from the table and stood behind the door to read it. A phone number and nothing else. Did this guy think he was playing super spy or something? And what was he hiding from his own men?

Chris shook his head, giving it a few minutes before slipping out of the room again and giving his own instructions to the new guy at the door. No matter what Breen had told the guy, Chris had his own rules and he wanted to make damn sure this guy knew them-- and the consequences of not following them.

He came back inside, and sat heavily in the chair next to Vin's bed, ready to wait it out for Vin to be brought back. Chris thought about it for a beat or two, then decided he'd play along and maybe give Breen a call later, after Vin'd had his dinner. He didn't like games, especially when Vin himself was at stake. But if Breen was somehow opening a channel to get Chris some info on what was going down, it might be worth going along. For the time being, anyway.

Within minutes, a commotion in the hall signaled Vin’s return. Chris waited in the chair against the wall, determined to stay out of the way and let the hospital staff do their job.

Vin had his eyes closed and he looked worn down. There were too many lines going from his body to the machines that rode on his bed with him. It reminded Chris how close a call it was. Made him want to pick up a phone and call Breen to set up a meet so he could strangle him. Chris knew he was one overprotective son of a bitch when it came to people he cared about. And he had no plans to change, either. If it was any member of his team laying in that bed, he’d be exactly the same way. He hoped they all knew it because he wasn’t about to say something like that out loud.

Vin’s eyes flew open as Chris studied him and he found Chris after a slightly-panicked look around the room. He settled back in, looking a little sheepish when Chris gave him a nod. 

“Mr. Tanner?” the nurse attending to him called. “We’ll do all the work. That latest dose of morphine should have kicked in by now, so you relax and let us do our jobs.”

Vin nodded and it was all Chris could do to sit quietly out of the way while they got him settled. He had to look away as Vin tried to hide his reaction to being moved. 

It didn’t take long to get him settled and Chris gave him a few minutes to get comfortable before he tried talking to him. But Vin beat him to it.

Eyes still closed and voice a little shaky, Vin asked, “I smell food?”

Chris left his seat by the wall and moved to the empty chair by the bed. He wheeled over the tray table and arranged it so Vin could reach it without having to move.

“You feel like eating?” Chris asked, a little surprised the first thing on Vin’s mind was food.

“They ain’t fed me since lunch. M’starving,” Vin said, eyes still clamped tight, but his voice was a little steadier. “Left me laying in a room with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. Then when they was runnin them tests, my stomach rumbled so loud inside’a that tube thing it sounded like it was fixin to storm.”

He’d get used to the accent… eventually. He didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. Even better, Vin smiled back. He watched quietly while Vin dug into his food. It was getting damn late. He wanted to ask Vin some questions, but wasn’t too sure how to go about it. Or how to go about letting him know other important facts. That could wait until morning, if Vin was tired.

“You tired?” he asked when Vin finished eating.

“A little. The drugs are probably gonna knock me out. Sorry I ain’t much company.”

“I don’t need to be entertained. I brought some things for you.”

Vin perked up a little at the mention of presents and Chris rummaged through the bag he’d placed on the floor. He pulled out his laptop and arranged it so Vin could see it.

“Movies,” Chris said when Vin looked at him, eyebrow cocked. “It’s got a DVD player.” He pulled out a stack of DVD’s and set them on the tray next to the laptop. “You’ve seen every one of them, some more than once, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“Funny,” Vin said, but his little grin proved he wasn’t annoyed by Chris’ joking about his condition. “You got anything else in there?” Vin asked, craning his neck to get a look in the large bag.

“Some clothes you had at my place. Toothbrush, a couple of magazines. Anything I saw laying around I thought you might like while you’re laid up here.”

Vin let loose a big yawn and Chris figured he maybe had enough. “If you want to watch a movie, I’ll help you get it set up.” He figured it was a good bet Vin had no idea what a DVD was, never mind how to get the computer to play one. He set it aside and pulled out his briefcase. “Go to sleep if you’re tired. I brought some work with me.”

“Police work?” Vin asked, clearly more interested in that than in the movies or sleep.

“Actually, we’re ATF agents.”

“ATF?” Vin asked. “Ain’t no way I’m an ATF agent,” he said, shaking his head. “ATF wants to take away our guns so we cain’t protect ourselves.”

“Really?” Chris asked him, trying to keep from laughing at him. Obviously, Vin had changed some of his ideas over the years. He probably shouldn’t be surprised by Vin’s statement. Texas wasn’t a state too fond of ATF agents. And at fourteen, Vin was probably influenced by the adults around him. Chris knew he was, so why wouldn’t Vin be?

Vin was giving him a funny look and Chris did his best to hide his smile. He opened his briefcase and pulled out Vin’s wallet, including his ID and badge. He tossed it to him and Vin picked it up and studied it.

“Hmmm,” Vin said, looking back to Chris. “Never would have guessed that.”

“Got to be pretty strange, huh?” Chris asked when he caught a glimpse of something in Vin’s eye. He knew him well enough to know he wasn’t too sure of himself right now. “Waking up and not knowing anything about your own life?”

“Strange ain’t the half of it,” Vin said, shrugging. 

“It’s temporary, Vin, you’ll see. I talked to one of your doctor’s earlier; the one that was here with the students?”

Vin nodded and Chris continued. “She said that she’s seen other cases like yours and she sounded pretty confident you’d be back to yourself in no time.”

Vin looked away and Chris let it drop. Talking about whether it was temporary or not wouldn’t change the fact that right now, he had to live with it. He had something else to ask, anyway. Now was as good as a time as any. Not that any time would be good.

“Vin?” Chris asked, and Vin turned his head back to face Chris again. “I need to ask you some questions. Someone might have hit you on purpose and we need to know why.”

His expression closed off a little and he looked wary, but he nodded. 

“Can you tell me what you remember about your friend Jess’ death?”

“You think it has something to do with that?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I need to know anything you can remember.”

Vin looked away again and Chris thought that was the end of their conversation but Vin started talking after a few minutes. “Last month, Jess started actin’ kind of funny. Not like himself. We been in homes together a couple years now. He was like a big brother. I ain’t never had a brother, but I figured that was what one was like. He looked out for me. Even kind of looked like me too. When he was around, Eli didn’t pick fights with me or try to get me in trouble.”

“Eli Joe?” Chris asked when Vin went silent.

Vin nodded, still not meeting Chris’ eyes. He played with his blanket a little and closed his eyes. Chris thought Vin wouldn’t say anything more, but just as Chris decided to let it drop, Vin started talking again. His voice low, Chris had to strain to hear him.

“Boys Ranch was the best place I lived since I was eight. No fighting and the people in charge didn’t let the bigger kids take stuff from the smaller kids. Thought I was gonna stay there till I was old enough to go off on my own. Me an’ Jess planned on joinin the rodeo when we was old enough. We got to ride horses there an’ everything. Three weeks ago, we planned to meet at the old jail museum after dinner and practice our rope throwin. It was Friday so we had no homework and no chores. Fridays was always the best day.”

Vin’s voice broke a little and Chris wanted to tell him it was all right; he didn’t have to talk about it if he didn’t want to. But he did have to talk about it. He didn’t know he had the FBI dogging him and he wouldn’t if Chris had anything to say about it, but Chris had to know what the hell was going on if he was going to keep running interference.

Chris reached out and laid his hand on Vin’s good leg, giving a little squeeze.

“I got to the jail and went inside. Jess was jist layin there on the floor. I called his name a couple times and then rolled him over, ready to get out of the way if he was playin a joke on me. Only he was covered in blood. Somebody done slit his throat. I tried to see if he was still breathing, then I picked up the knife that was next to him.”

“Did you go for help?” Chris asked, to get Vin talking again.

Vin looked up and met Chris’ eyes, then shook his head. “Eli and Jimmy walked in and I had Jess’ blood all over me. Eli said he was gonna tell ‘em he found me like that and they’d think I did it. I didn’t believe him. He sent Yates to go get the counselor and then the cops and the ambulance came and it got all mixed up. I don’t remember it all cause it all kind a runs together on me.”

Shock, Chris knew. Vin was going pale just telling the story. And to him, all this had happened only weeks before. Chris kept his hand on Vin’s leg, not letting him get too caught up in what he was remembering.

Vin looked up, almost like he’d forgotten he was in a room in a hospital and not with his friend. “Cops questioned me for a couple of hours, then sent me to my bunk. Told me not to go anywheres. Eli dogged me everywhere I went after that. Told me I was gonna get the needle. Said I weren’t never nothing but trouble and ain’t no one gonna stand up for me now that Jess was gone. I know I shouldn’t a believed him, but he’d been in the system since he was a baby. He knows how things work. I do too.”

“So you left?” Chris asked, trying to keep his voice low. He wasn’t judging Vin and Vin had to know that. He was trying to piece together a timeline. “Do you remember the date?”

“Week before Christmas,” Vin said. 

“So where did you go?”

“Had to get out of Texas. Had just enough money to get to Oklahoma. Wish I coulda gone far away but you cain’t get far without much money. Camped out and hitched my way to Tulsa. Don’t remember much after getting there.”

“You did good, Vin, real good,” Chris said, giving his leg one last squeeze before letting him go. “You thirsty?” he asked as he stood.

Vin nodded to him, still staring off at the far wall. “Eli ain’t never liked me. We was in the same home since I was nine. When that place closed, all ten of us got sent to juvie. Only me, Jess, Eli and Yates went to Boys Ranch. Don’t know where the others ended up. Wish he’d a been sent somewhere else. I think he mighta killed Jess and tried to make it look like I done it, but I just don’t know.”

"It's okay, Vin. We'll get it figured out, one way or another," Chris said, handing Vin a cup of water. He didn't absolutely believe it himself, but it was what Vin needed to hear.

Vin took the cup, but paused with the rim just in front of his lips. "You sure about that?"

The uncertainty glinted in Vin's eyes and made Chris' gut clench. "We always do, pard," Chris said, and suddenly he believed it a little more himself.

Vin nodded and took a sip. Though the tension on Vin's face eased a little, enough for Chris' stomach to unknot some, there were still worry lines around Vin's eyes. Time to back off.

"All right, then. You wanna try The Good, the Bad and the Ugly? Or something a little more current?" Chris asked, holding up a stack of DVD covers for Vin to see.

"You got anything good, better and not so ugly?" Vin asked, looking too tired for real mischief, but there was a definite twinkle that wasn't there before.

Chris grinned. "A comedy, then. I don't get it, but you always liked this one," he said, holding up one particular cover.

"Vegas Vacation?" Vin said, expression skeptical as he looked at the DVD case. "Ah hell, if I liked it before, I suppose I'll like it now. If'n I can stay awake for it."

Chris got the DVD out of the case and into the player. "If you fall asleep, you can always go back and pick up where you left off."

"I reckon," Vin answered around a yawn.

Just a few minutes into it, Vin drifted off to sleep, the same silly grin still on his face he always wore whenever he watched this movie. Chris turned the volume down a little but left the video playing, and he sat back to get going on some of the paperwork in his briefcase. 

Chris figured he'd try to actually get something done before checking in with Buck again and maybe call Breen after that. He'd get those two calls made on his way back out to the ranch, though, once he was sure Vin was out for the night. He was itching to get some answers, but his first priority was seeing to Vin, making sure he was safe and tucked in for the night. On that thought, he decided maybe he'd get JD out to the hospital to sit with Vin over night. Breen didn't look ballsy enough to try to sneak his way into Vin during the night, but Chris didn't want to take that chance. The man had backed down at the right times earlier, but he'd also radiated a sense of desperation that Chris couldn't dismiss. Even the weak could get dangerous when they were desperate, Chris knew.

Chris looked down again at Vin's face, relaxed in sleep, then quietly made his way toward the door, putting some distance between himself and the bed to help with the noise. He flipped open his cell and punched the speed-dial for JD. Kid would be earning some overtime on his next check, for sure. Chris was also sure JD would high-tail it over even without the padding on his paycheck.

He hadn’t planned to go home quite so soon, but he wanted access to databases and his home computer had all the access he needed. He could have gone to work, but he knew if he went in, he’d have a hard time getting away, even though Travis had given him some time off. Chris wasn’t the only one taking a possible attack on an agent seriously; Travis was behind him all the way on this one.

Buck and Ezra wouldn’t be in until fairly late and he knew he shouldn’t expect anything new from them. He crossed Buck off his short list of phone calls and decided to make his one remaining call.

He kept one eye on the nearly empty road and the other on his phone as he dialed. Three rings and he was ready to hang up. Before it rang again, someone answered.

“Hello?” a question.

“Breen?”

“Is this a secure line?” Breen asked, sounding downright panicked.

“No,” Chris said, a little irritated at the cloak and dagger shit.

“Call me back from a secure line,” Breen said, then hung up without another word.

He was beginning to think Breen had a few screws loose. Paranoid, definitely paranoid. He tried to figure out what exactly he meant by a secure line. One that wasn’t tapped, obviously. One no one would have any way to know he’d be using ahead of time and his cell phone didn’t qualify. He knew a place on the highway that had a pay phone. It’d have to be good enough. He turned his cell off, suddenly as paranoid as Breen. No one would be tracking him using the GPS chip built into his cell. It was crazy to even be thinking that way.

He didn’t pull off at the first place he knew, deciding against it because he didn’t want to get caught up in paranoia or cloak and dagger shit. They were Federal Agents. They needed to act like it. But the mystery proved too much and he pulled off four exits before his own and stopped in front of the bank of pay phones.

“I didn’t think you would call back,” Breen said as he answered on the first ring.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chris growled into the phone. 

“We can’t talk. They’ve probably got this number now. They might even be listening.”

“I’m getting tired of this. At least pretend to be sane or we’re done.”

“Agent Larabee, you, Agent Tanner and the men you have working this are all in danger. I suggest you start using the buddy system and stick to it.”

Chris let out a put-upon sigh. Crazy all right. “We’re all Federal Agents. I doubt we’re in any danger from the criminal element. We get them, remember, Agent Breen.”

“You have no idea what’s going on here, Larabee. Give me two days to clear this and we’ll meet. I’ll let you know where and when. And keep your own men on the hospital.”

“You don’t trust your own agents?” Chris asked, getting ready to reach the boiling point.

“I’ll be in touch,” Breen said and the line went dead.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted as he slammed the receiver into the cradle. Almost home, now he had to turn around and head back to town. He made one more call before he left, arranging for Josiah to go and sit with Vin and JD. Until he knew more, he planned on playing this one safe, including insisting his team use the buddy system Breen suggested.

He’d call Buck and Ezra within minutes of their landing. And he’d fill Nathan in then too. Just what the fuck had they fallen in the middle of? He was starting to have his doubts that Jess Kincaid’s death was at the center of it. This was too big to be about one orphan kid killing another thirteen years before. 

*****


End file.
